


Migraine

by Bereus



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Academy Era, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Needs a Hug, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Blue Lions Students (Fire Emblem), Mentioned Glenn Fraldarius, Mentioned Lambert Egitte Blaiddyd, One Shot, POV Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sad, Sad Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Soft Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Spoilers for Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Tragedy of Duscur (Fire Emblem), no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24041887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bereus/pseuds/Bereus
Summary: Dimitri struggles to come to terms with the fact that people care about him.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	Migraine

Staring up at the ceiling in his room, the young prince let out a breath of frustration. 

It was an ideal night for sleep. The weather outside was fresh, smelling of recently cut grass. There were no visitors in Sylvain’s room next door, the only sound being the song’s of cricket’s chirping in the night. Dimitri’s eyelid’s hung low, desperate to close and lull him into unconsciousness.

But he couldn’t fall asleep.

The moment he would close his eyes, the imprint of fire and bodies of the fallen relived behind his eyelids, their cries resolute to keep him awake. To keep him on task.

_ ‘You must avenge us _ ’ Lambert whispered close to his ear, his breath almost tangible enough to feel on Dimitri’s cheek. 

Glancing to his side, Dimitri could see his father in the corner of his eye, kneeling near the bed, just as he had when Dimitri was a child to say goodnight, though the blood encrusted on his lips broke the illusion. 

Dimitri’s heart seized in his chest, his heart aching with the desire to see his father. But he knew as soon as he turned to look him in the eyes, only muted blue eyes long since dead would stare back at him, and such a sight would only break his heart further. 

Unable to stand their growing agitation, Dimitri complied with his father and friends demands, brushing off the chill’s that racked his spine as his gaze fell upon Glenn’s blood stained boots. Dimitri wanted to ask how not sleeping would accomplish their desires, but kept his mouth shut, unable to argue with the dead.

Dimitri redressed himself, choosing to wear a simple tunic instead of his usual house leader attire for training as it was unlikely that he’d find someone at the training grounds this late. 

Gently closing his door, he kept his footsteps soft so as not to disturb his sleeping classmates, Glenn lounged against Felix’s door as Dimitri turned to walk down the hallway.

Not long after Dimitri made his way down the staircase and out the Dormitory did their voice’s lower to a mumble, satisfied in Dimitri’s willingness to comply with their demands. Their form’s dissipated, but his headache remained.

Dimitri may have been the sole survivor of the Tragedy of Duscur, yet the fallen lived on through him.

\---

Just as Dimitri had expected, the training grounds were open to the public and not a soul was in sight. He proceeded to begin his warm up, his breath visible as the night’s chill clung to his skin like a wet blanket.

Dimitri continued training long into the night, practicing his rep’s instructed by the Professor for him to focus on for the week. The long Sabre in his grip felt slightly foreign, but not unnatural. Dimitri wasn’t guilty to admit that he preferred using a Lance out of every weapon, but he agreed that learning the basics to another weapon was sound practice.

It felt like he was never doing enough. Never fulfilling his duties as a prince of Faerghus, never putting in enough effort in training to overcome his enemies. He was gifted with overwhelming strength, yet it had done little to subdue his assailants in Duscur. It had done nothing to stop the dogmatic nobles who wished to see the innocent people of Duscur burn. No, Dimitri was weak, his father and Glenn told him so. While Dimitri sat at the Monastery, not coming a clue closer to learning who caused the tragedy of Duscur, his uncle was practicing philanthropy with women instead of ruling his ailing country. Why was he so unable to protect the things he cared about? 

_ Why was he so weak? _

Dimitri’s thought’s halted as the armored training dummy in front of him snapped, his blade snapping at the hilt from the pressure he’d exerted on the weapon.

Breathing heavily, he pushed his damp bangs up so he could wipe the sweat off his brow. Dropping the handle of the sword, his gaze traveled to the head of the now decapitated dummy. 

Closing his eyes, Dimitri took deep breaths to steady his racing heart, fighting back the panic in his chest that threatened to overwhelm him.

Sitting down on the ground he let out a short humorless laugh. Here he had told Gilbert that he was a grown man, no longer childish enough to break a sword on accident with his brute strength. Yet he had done it again.

He truly was pathetic.

Letting out a disbondent sigh, Dimitri let himself fall on his back. His eyes trained on the star’s above, the heat of his workout crawling off his form and seeping into the cold hard ground below him. His hand traveling to the crown of his head, Dimitri pressed his cold fingertips to his burning forehead to stem the pounding that resonated in his skull. 

\---

Dimitri awoke to the sound of the training ground’s gate opening,shuffled footsteps approached his form before a light kick hit his shoulder.

His eyes blinked open immediately. Turning his head, Dimitri made eye contact with a scowling Felix who towered over him, the morning sun casting a halo around his head.

“Sleep well, Boar?” Felix scoffed.

“Pardon me, Felix. I did not intend to spend the night here, and upset your morning routine.” Dimitri apologized calmly, shuffling to a stand as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. One would have figured that Dimitri would’ve felt refreshed having finally fallen asleep, yet the pounding in his head remained, it’s intensity increasing under the morning sun’s rays. 

He had slept longer than intended, meaning Dedue would likely be looking for him now.

Felix looked him over once before his frown deepened and he made his way to the training swords. “Get out of here, you look like a corpse.”

Dimitri tried not to take his biting words personally. A small part of him wondered if this was Felix’s way of showing concern, but pushed his hopes down. Out of all his friends, Felix knew him the best, and so he rightfully despised him. He had every right to, as his brother had died a cruel, pointless death protecting Dimitri. Felix had seen him brutally cut down a rebellion in an unhinged state. He knew Dimitri better than the rest of his friends, and so he hated him. It was to be expected.

Still, Dimitri could not help the sadness that tightened his chest. All of his friend’s had changed so much because of the Tragedy of Duscur. And yet Dimitri had not come closer to solve the mystery of said event.

Felix ignored him after the exchange, making a point to face the wall and practice his repetitions. Glenn leaned on the column watching his little brother with a faint smile on his lips before his stare drifted to Dimitri. 

_ ‘You did this. You’re the reason I’ll never get to be with my younger brother again.’ _

Whispering goodbye to his childhood friend, Dimitri left the arena, shame crawling up his throat. 

\---

“Are you alright, your Highness?” Ashe asked softly as he gingerly rested the tips of his fingers on Dimitri’s form.

Dimiri straightened in his seat with a startle, his body jolting away from Ashe’s hand. He blinked in confusion, feeling a warm substance on his face. Only when he moved a gauntlet covered hand to his face did he find that oatmeal had made its home on his face. His face scrunched up in confusion.

“You fell asleep all of a sudden. Was breakfast a comfortable pillow?” Mercedes explained with a small teasing smile as she offered the prince a napkin.

Dimitri said thank you before gratefully taking the napkin from her hand, and scrubbing the oats off his face. And hopefully rubbing off the violent blush that had crawled up his neck. His ear’s burned. 

“Are you feeling unwell, your Highness?” Dedue asked with a pensive frown.

Dimitri shook his head and offered a taut smile. “I feel fine, Dedue.”

Felix said nothing, keeping to himself as he took a seat the farthest from Dimitri at the table, near Annette.

Annette quirked her head in confusion at the remark before she turned to their house leader. “Are you not getting enough sleep?”

Glenn leaned over Annette’s form, commenting on the dishe’s lack of spice.

Dimitri felt a chill run down his spine as his father placed his gauntlet clad hands on his shoulders.  _ “You’re wasting time. The answer’s you seek are close, Dimitri.” _

“Come on. Don’t hold out on us, your highness. What were you doing up so late? Or perhaps, who-Ouch!” Sylvain was cut off by a hard thud as Ingrid’s lunch tray nailed him in the back of his head, an unamused expression on the girl's face as she took her seat beside Sylvain.

Dimitri tried not to sigh in exasperation, though a small grimace did form on his face as his classmates derailed into chaos. Their voices increasing in volume only worsening the severity of his headache.

“It is kind of you all to worry, but I assure you that I am fine.” He spoke with a raised hand, quieting all of their voices. 

The blue lions glanced to one another, silently communicating before they went back to their meals, eating in relative silence. Said man was too tied to notice the occasional glances cast his way.

\--

“Oh, your Highness! I don’t believe I’ve ever seen your bare hands before.” Annette commented to him as he entered the classroom.

Dimitri liked to say that he kept himself composed in most situations. In battle he was able to keep down the urge to slaughter indiscriminately. He was aware that eyes were constantly on him. Yet here he was, barely able to keep down the growing dread that gnawed in his stomach as he looked down at his hands and realized for the first time that day that he had forgotten his gauntlets. 

Dimitri felt nauseous. He had always done his best to keep his hands covered. It was easier that way, than to look upon his hand’s that had one day been stained with the blood of the innocent. The blood of those that had died in Duscur.

He made a motion to excuse himself so he could quickly retrieve the rest of his uniform from his room, but halted at the sound of the bell signaling classes were about to start, the Professor greeting him as they walked in the door behind him. Dimitri swallowed the bile that had collected in his throat before taking his seat beside Dedue, looking anywhere but down at his palms. Memories of them painted with crimson blood resurfacing every time he closed his eyes.

In an attempt to stay awake, Dimitri found himself propping his head up by holding his chin in place with his hand. A habit he’d developed in the last few years to keep himself awake. Though just as quick, a loud crack resonated through the room as his bare hand dented the table. 

The Professor halted their lecture as all the eyes in the room turned to Dimitri. He muttered a small apology and tucked his hands underneath the desk. The imprint of where he’d touched his face burning his skin long after the lecture had moved on from the interruption. THe prince dug his nails into his palms, the pain keeping him present enough to not fall asleep in class.

Dimitri attempted to keep composure as he waited for the bell to ring. Though he was sure that to anyone else he looked unraveled as he stood abruptly as the bell rang to signify the end of classes for the day. He quickly made his goodbyes to Dedue, promising to meet him in the knight’s hall later that day before he made his move to get out of the classroom and retrieve the missing piece of his school uniform.

However, just as he made his way out of the Blue Lion’s classroom door, he was stopped by Mercedes calling his name. Dimitri turned around to face her, relaxing his form, he hoped he looked more composed than he felt. 

“Yes, Mercedes?”

“Your hand.” She gestured to his hands. What of his hands? Ah, he realized what she meant as he looked down and saw his hand cut open in bloody dents from his nails. “May I?”

“Ah. It’s nothing to worry about, a simple handkerchief should suffice.” He replied as he tucked his hand’s behind, ignoring the memories that flitted through his mind in a haze as he remembered the last time he’d seen blood under his nails. 

The cleric frowned slightly, her thick eyebrows furrowing as she listened to him downplay the injury. Dimitri tried not to get annoyed. He appreciated her concern, but he didn’t need to be coddled, it was barely a flesh wound. Nevertheless he knew better than to argue with the medic, so when she asked once more to see his hands, he relented and showed her them. 

Goosebumps rose on his skin as she cradled his hand, unable to help but notice how much larger his scarred hands were in her soft and gentle touch. The gesture felt far too intimate than what Dimitri was used to and so he averted his gaze to ease the buzz in his skin.

The telltale sign of magic at work warmed his skin, healing the shallow cuts in his palms, Mercedes met Dimitri’s shy gaze with a motherly smile before she patted his hand and let him be. His confused gaze followed after the woman who was making her way to the dining hall with Annette.

\---

From there on out, Dimitri knew something was off.

It wasn’t long after the incident with Mercedes when the Professor pulled him away from his training. Their arms were folded as Dimitri approached them, serving as a telltale sign that something was wrong. 

“Is there something I can help you with, Professor?” He asked as he approached them while wiping the sweat from his brow. He thanked them as he handed him a wet rag, waiting for their reasoning to pull him away from training.

Dimitri was used to his teacher’s quiet demeanor, yet he still struggled to not move around in discomfort as they ran their vigilant gaze over his form, inspecting him.

“Are you having trouble sleeping at night, Dimitri?” They asked cooly, their gaze steadfast on Dimitri’s face.

He kept his expression even, a pleasant smile on his lips that he hoped conveyed good naturedness. “I feel fine, Professor, but thank you for your concern.” 

They continued to stare at him which suggested that they didn’t fully believe his lie.

“I assure you Professor. Everything is alright. I’ll admit I am feeling a little tired today, but it’s nothing that will inhibit me from performing my duties as house leader.” Dimitri added with a small smile.

A thoughtful look passed Byleth’s face before they told him they’d like to meet him later for tea. 

A pleasant warmth filled Dimitri’s chest at the thought of meeting them for tea. He wouldn’t say that he was particularly fond of sitting still, it meant less time for training. But Dimitri always found that he felt calmer, and the voices quieter, after a tea session with the Professor. Perhaps he would even get some sleep.

He politely agreed, and was thus rewarded with a rare smile from the Professor. It was enough to push away his father and the other’s grievances that he was wasting time, if even for just a moment. 

Dimitri carried on with his usual schedule after the exchange, unaware of the gazes following him.

\---

“Is there something going on that I’m unaware of?” Dimitri asked Sylvain as the two made their way to the stables for their weekend chores.

Sylvain glanced at the prince and offered a warm smile. “Not comfortable with all the attention showered at you lately, huh?”

“So you admit that everyone is acting odd as of late.”

Sylvain was silent for a moment before he shrugged. “You worry too much, Highness. Anyways, to more important matters, are you going to ask a girl to the ball?”

Dimitri frowned as Sylvain turned away from the conversation to unlock the stable storehouse. “Don’t avoid the conversation, Sylvain. What is going on?”

Sylvain propped the door open before turning to face Dimitri once more. The two stared at each other for a moment before the former sighed. “Nobody’s conspiring against you Dimitri. You’ve been looking worn down lately.. And after all that happened in Remire. Well, we’re worried about you.”

Dimitri’s brows knit together as Sylvain spoke. He didn’t need his classmates to be worried over him, but he chose not to voice these thoughts as he tried to decipher the meaning behind the emotions in Sylvain’s eyes.

\---

Sylvain’s words hung on Dimitri for the rest of the week. 

_ We’re worried about you. _

Their worries, while appreciated, were misplaced. Dimitri couldn’t help but want to scowl at the notion. He didn’t deserve their attention, it was wasted on someone like him. 

Still, as he thought back to Mercedes gentle touch as she healed his wounds, and the concerned look in each of his friends eyes, the young prince couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread in his chest. 

Gnawing on his bottom lip, Dimitri began to undress for the day, carefully stacking his armor he gazed down at his bed, watching it taunt him with it’s comforts. 

Would he be denied sleep once again? How long would this insufferable cycle continue? 

Turning his gaze from his opponent, Dimitri caught his reflection in a small mirror he kept in his bedroom. Dark circles underneath his eyes, his lips pulled taut in a small frown greeted him through the small mirror.

Was this how he’d appeared to his classmates all week? How long had he looked like death half warmed over? Their concerns made more sense now. 

Silently Dimitri walked over, gently taking the mirror in his hands, the cool metal seeping the warmth out of his fingers. He scowled at his reflection before setting the mirror face down and climbing into bed.

He’d had to speak to them tomorrow to assuage their worries. There was no need for them to continue draining their energy on fruitless efforts. Dimitri would not rest. Not until those who caused the Tragedy of Duscur were brought to justice. Not until the fallen had been avenged.

_ We’re worried about you, Dimitri. _

Dimitri closed his eyes, resting the back of his hand over his eyelids as his face scrunched up. They were too kind to a monster like him. Nevertheless, he wiped the wetness trailing down his eyes and let his body relax in the comforts of his bed. If not for his sake, then for his friends, Dimitri would close his eyes and try to get some rest.

**  
  
  
**

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this on and off for a month. Didn't know if I'd ever post it, but my 21st birthday's the 12th so I'm posting it as a treat to myself ha.
> 
> I'm sad Intsys is done with the DLC waves because I really would've liked to have the Tragedy of Duscur resolved. It was such a driving factor for Part 1 of BL, and while I thought Part 2 had some interesting features, there are many aspects that let me down. (*cough*Gilbert u suck *cough*) I know CF suffers the same kind of issues, and the game's still good, it's just a bummer that they had such driving stories that they had to cut back on most likely from a lack of time. It was very ambitious for a Fire Emblem game, major console title and all that. (Tho I think they could've cut back some of the costume waves and put in that story content BUT MAYBE THAT'S JUST ME...) 
> 
> I'll stop my ramblings. Thank's for reading! Please leave a comment or kudo's to let me know what you thought. Stay safe everyone.


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